


Right in Front of Me

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Bucky Barnes AU, Bucky Barnes NSFW, F/M, Female Reader, NSFW, Smut, bucky barnes smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7192790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve been best friends with Bucky for the last decade, but everything changes in one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Screwing your blurry eyes shut and pinching the bridge of your nose, you stumbled through the apartment. You had fallen asleep no more than two hours ago after talking with your best friend on Skype; she was going through a pretty rough break-up, so you drank a bottle of wine ‘with’ her and listened to her cry. Another set of knocks rattled the door on its hinges, pulling a growl of frustration from deep within you.

You threw the clunky deadbolt and the chain slapped against the door as you threw it open. “It’s three in the morning, what could you possibly want,” your voice was thick, coating the question with anger and frustration at the rude awakening. Bucky stormed past, his shoulder almost slamming into yours. He was mumbling to himself, carding a hand through his hair, and pacing back and forth like a caged animal. 

Being woken up at all hours of the night was just one of the many perks when it came to Bucky, your good friend for the last decade. In that time, you had come to know everything about him; you knew what flavor of ice cream he craved during the full moon, that he secretly liked watching The Notebook -but only with you-, he loved the way the ocean and thick sand felt between his toes, that he tilted his head to the left when he didn’t understand something immediately, how his brows would furrow before he laughed… you could go on, but right now, you couldn’t get a read on him.

After closing the door, you crossed your arms. “Hey, look at me.”

Long hair fell into his eyes as he continued to pace. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re realizing that now? Jesus, Buck!” You didn’t mean to snap, but god damn it, you were exhausted and pretty fucking drunk.

He stopped mid-stride, one booted foot hitting the floor heavily before he faced you. Normal crystal eyes flashed sapphire and you hated to admit how it made your heart skip a beat. One minute he was standing across the room staring at you and the next he was stalking toward you. With wide eyes, you stumbled back until you slammed into the door.

“Talk some sense into me, doll. Tell me to leave.” Stormy eyes drilled into yours, his chest was heaving, his hands were balled into fists, and his jaw was clenching so hard you could hear his molars grinding together. The air between you thickened with every ragged breath he pulled in through his nose and just when you went to ask what was going on, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes went wide and you pressed your hands against his chest, but he didn’t budge. His week old stubble burned into your chin, his mouth slanted over yours, and then his tongue -hot and insistent- swept along your bottom lip. But what stopped you from fighting was the moan that made his chest rumble under your hands. With your eyes still open, you grabbed the back of his neck and arched your back, curving perfectly into his chest. Rough hands splayed over the small of your back and ass, holding you tight against him; he was all hard lines and angles as he ground into your much softer flesh.

Bucky pulled you from the floor by your thighs, biting your bottom lip as your legs naturally wrapped around his waist. The trip to your bedroom was torture for both of you. His stride made the button fly of his jeans dig into you; it was like a jolt of electricity straight to your pussy.

With your feet back on the floor, the clothes seemingly melted away. It’s not like you hadn’t seen Bucky without a shirt or anything, he had strode around your apartment wearing black boxer shorts on numerous occasions, but that was before. Now… the sight of his broad shoulders, the way the moon washed his chestnut hair in its rays, how his waist narrowed, and the patch of dark hair that disappeared into his boxer briefs; your breath hitched in the back of your throat, making it tighten with excitement.

Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you raked your nails down his stomach before cupping his thick cock. His head lulled back and your name spilled from his lips, sounding more like a curse than a prayer. You dropped to your knees, pushing the thin cotton down his thighs as you went. Bucky tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling it back so he could watch as you grabbed his cock and licked along the thick vein that pulsed with every beat of his heart.

His shaft was velvet soft and hard at the same time, but his wide cock-head was the smoothest you’d ever felt, and the large beads of pre-cum were bittersweet, making you salivate at the taste. You worked him in and out of your mouth, your hand pumping the rest of his cock. Bucky bit his bottom lip as you fucked him with your mouth, wet sucking sounds echoing the grunts of approval from the man above you.

Bucky was panting when he pulled you off the floor. “I don’t wanna cum in your mouth, doll,” his voice was thick with arousal and it sent a shiver up your spine.

Licking some of the opaque substance from the corner of your mouth, you sat on the edge of the bed and scooted back -rather gracefully, if you say so yourself- spreading yourself out on the sheets like you were an all-he-could-eat buffet. You crooked your finger and failed at biting back a moan as he crawled up your body, dropping kisses and nipping sensitive skin as he went.

With a low growl, Bucky buried his face between your legs and licked the juices dripping from your lips. Each pass of his tongue was firmer than the last, pushing his nose into your engorged clit. It wasn’t until you cried out, begging for more, that two thick digits pressed into you, stroking your tight heat in tandem with sucking your clit between his lips, dragging his teeth over the swollen bundle of nerves.

Hands in his hair and thighs shuddering against his ears, you came with a hoarse shout of his name, covering his hand and mouth with your tangy cum. Your body was still buzzing and shuddering as he laid slick-coated kisses on your stomach and breasts, rolling your nipples with his tongue, biting them, tugging on them, just to the right side of pain.

Hissing through the sharp stings that almost made you cum again, you reached over to the nightstand and fumbled around for a condom. Thick fingers brushed past yours, snatching the foil package that sat mere inches from your fingers. You watched through hooded lids as he sat back on his haunches, tore open the package, and rolled the clear condom down his thick cock. My God, he was beautiful. Every inch of him, including the scars from growing up in Brooklyn, was imperfectly perfect.

“Like what you see, Y/N?” He chuckled low in his throat.

Feeling brave, you slid a hand down your belly and parted your slippery lips, moaning at the wave of desire pulsing through you. “You tell me, Buck.”

Bucky was on you in a flash, his tongue pushing into your mouth, battling yours for dominance. His rubber-coated cock-head brushed back and forth, spreading your slick before pushing in. He tried to take it slow, God help him, he did, but you weren’t having it. With one leg hooked around his hip and a foot on the bed, your hips snapped up. With a slap of wet skin and the air driven from two sets of lungs, Bucky filled you so completely, your vision blurred and your heart skipped a couple of beats.

“F- fuck, doll,” his voice was wrecked against your lips. Bucky’s entire body shuddered as your walls fluttered around him, pulsing as they stretched. “So tight… wet.”

You drug your nails down his back, knowing he’d be wearing your marks, just as you were wearing his. Groaning, you asked him to fuck you, “please, Bucky.”

With a bruising kiss, an arm behind your back, and a hand on your shoulder, he did exactly as you begged of him. You met every tight and controlled snap of his hips, relishing in the pain from his nails on your shoulder as it mixed with the pleasure of his cock-head brushing your g-spot. Long hair tickled your neck as he dropped his head and watched his cock -glistening with your slick- as he pounded into you again and again, the sway and slap of his heavy balls against your ass, filling the room with the wet sucking sounds of sex.

Blood roared in your ears as your orgasm came faster and harder than before. Your back arched and Bucky sucked on the crook of your neck as your velvet wet heat clamped down on him. Through the haze of your release, you felt him twitch, felt his hips stutter, heard the way his breathing grew more ragged.

You set your mouth by his ear and panted, “Come on, Buck. I wanna feel you cum.”

A feral snarl blasted against your neck as he pounded into you relentlessly. Grabbing onto the headboard for leverage, his shoulders bowed with every snap of his hips and finally, with a shout of your name, he came, filling the condom with thick streams of cum. Even after that, the pair of you writhed together, trying to make the moment last even longer. The kisses had changed from intense and possessive to soft and languid.

Each of you groaned as he rolled away and stood, going into the bathroom to discard the condom and clean up. You were still breathing heavy when he reappeared, at the foot of the bed with a damp washcloth and began to clean your slick from your thighs and pussy.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. Rolling to your side, you perched up on your elbow and slid a hand down his spine.

“What’sa matter, Buck?” You kept your voice soft, as if he were a scared animal. His only answer was a shake of his head and a shuddering sigh that made your chest tight. “You wanted me to tell you to leave earlier.”

“And why didn’t you?” He looked at you then, his tone and eyes almost accusatory.

Sitting up, your hand fell away from him. “Bec- because I didn’t want you to.”

“Fuck… Y/N… I shouldn’t have come here.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his wrist and despite the fact he could have easily pulled away from your touch, he didn’t. Steely blue eyes settled on yours and right before his head dipped and he kissed you, you saw a flash of something; guilt, shame, regret?

Bucky stayed with you that night, showering every inch of your body with affection, marking you with his mouth and hands. You returned the favor, relishing in the salty tang of his skin, deep timbre of his grunts as he came, how the way he said your name made the back of your neck prickle and your pussy ache.

* * *

It was almost noon when you awoke, not as hungover as you expected and every muscle thrumming with overuse. You swept your arm back and forth in the space Bucky should have been, finding nothing but cool sheets and the scrape of paper against your knuckles. Your eyes flew open as you grabbed the note, recognizing Bucky’s scribble immediately.

_Y/N-_

_I’m sorry for so many things. For barging in the way I did last night. For not coming to you sooner. For not telling you the truth… I was just scared. Scared of what would happen if I told you how I felt. We’ve known each other for so long now that I didn’t want anything to change. But then one day I looked at you and I knew… I knew it was too late because I had fallen in love with you. I shouldn’t have, you’re my best friend and all, ~~but I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be, right in front of me~~ but I love you._

_Why am I writing all this down instead of telling you? Well… it’s because I won’t be there when you wake up. Not just there with you, but there in my apartment._

_I enlisted… I’m going to war with Steve._

_Don’t be upset, please, doll. If I had told you before, you woulda found a way to talk me out of it. But this… it’s something I ~~have~~ want to do. _

_I’ll write when I can and I hope that you’ll write back._

_I love you,_

_-B._

You read it again and again, the next time slower than the one before, making sure you weren’t imagining things. In the span of one night, your best friend had become your lover and now… he was off to fight in a war that had already claimed hundreds of thousands of lives. Falling to your back, the letter fell from your fingers as your heart ached and your chest grew tight.

“I love you, Buck.”


	2. Chapter 2

Before you knew it, thousands of letters and emails had been exchanged, hundreds of staticky phone and glitchy Skype calls had been placed, and four years passed. Those forms of communication weren’t ideal, but given the situation you were in, you’d take what you could get. Any time you could see his face or hear his voice made your heart skip a beat and your breath hitch in the back of your throat. You couldn’t wait until the day he came home. And then, six months ago, he stopped writing and calling. **  
**

One month later, Steve began calling and writing, trying to distract you from the fact that Bucky wasn’t there. It didn’t matter how many times you begged and pleaded, Steve wouldn’t… couldn’t tell you what was happening over there. What you did know was that the war was catastrophic, claiming the lives of hundreds of thousands of men and women. Knowing all of that made your mind race a million miles a minute, coming up with scenarios that made you sick to your stomach and gave you nightmares.

* * *

 

Arms laden with canvas grocery bags, you all but kicked the door in after clumsily unlocking it. “Last time I try and plan ahead,” you scolded yourself for trying to act like an adult and meal plan for the two weeks after getting paid. It almost seemed like it was more hassle than it was worth.

Rushing into the kitchen to set the bags on the counter, you didn’t see the person standing in your living room. It wasn’t until you shut and locked the door, turning back to head into the kitchen, that you spotted him. Fear made you cry out and jump back, making your heart thunder in your chest. When he stepped forward, the sun streaming in through the window highlighted his dirty blonde hair.

“Steve?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you choked on the large lump in your throat. You all but jumped into his arms when he crossed the room.

Thick arms wrapped around you and shaking hands splayed between your shoulder blades and on the small of your back. “Hey,” your name was lost in the crook of your neck.

Your nails scraped over the navy blue suit as you clutched onto him, fearing that he was a dream and he’d be gone when you awoke. Tears pricked your eyes and before you could even try to stop them, they spilled over, splashing onto his shoulder. You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, how happy you were to see him, but your throat was too tight.

It wasn’t until after your shoulders stopped shaking that Steve let you go. He looked down at you with those bright eyes of his and sighed heavily. “I need to tell you something.”

Time seemed to slow down as Steve told you about Bucky, how their convoy was ambushed one night and, when all was said and done, only a handful of soldiers had survived. After the bodies and rubble were removed, Bucky was nowhere to be found. Naturally, Steve feared that his best friend had died, that the explosion had ripped him completely apart. The last thing he wanted to do was call and tell you that Bucky wasn’t coming home, so he waited. And waited. And waited some more. He waited until the very last second, until General Barton rushed in shouting, “we got eyes on Barnes!”

They might have had eyes on Bucky, but that didn’t mean they **had**  him. Bucky was being held hostage in exchange for some outlandish request that Steve honestly couldn’t remember all the details of.

He scraped a hand down his face before continuing. “He isn’t the same, Y/N.”

“What do you mean? H- he’s ok, right?”

Steve covered your hand with his and dropped his gaze. “What they did to him… no one should have to go through that.”

Your stomach rolled violently and bile bubbled in the back of your throat. “They tortured him?”

His eyes flashed dark blue as anger thrummed through him. You could feel it on your skin, like sparks of electricity. “Sons a bitches took his arm.”

* * *

 

It was another week before Bucky came home. During that time, you did everything you could think of to prepare yourself. But the truth was, no matter how hard you tried, no matter how many books you read or websites you visited, nothing prepared you for the moment when Bucky stepped into the room, blue ballcap casting a shadow over his face, standing straighter than you’ve ever seen, yet his shoulders were slightly hunched, and his arm…

Steve told you about the prototype prosthetic the Army had used on Bucky. He said, “The technology is out of this world, the newest and greatest thing they could get their hands on.” So you knew that Bucky had a shiny metal arm, but you weren’t prepared for it.

You wanted to run up to him, throw your arms around his neck, and kiss him senseless, but you didn’t. You stood there, watching as he closed the door and locked it, metallic fingers moving nimbly, as if he’d always had them. It was a little unnerving, but you did your best not to stare.

Focusing on his half-hidden face, you gave a shy smile and started to cross the room. “Heya, Buck.”

He wrapped one arm around your waist, leaving the metallic one by his side, and let out a shuddering breath. “God, Y/N, I missed you more than I thought I would,” his voice was gravel and sandpaper against the crook of your neck.

“I missed you, too, Buck, so much.”

You remembered reading something about touching the prosthetic, that something as simple as a touch meant that you accepted the foreign body part. Pressing a kiss to his warm skin, you slid your hand from the back of his neck to his cotton covered shoulder, swallowing thickly when soft flesh gave way to hard steel.

Bucky flinched, albeit ever so slightly, but you felt his entire body shaking as your hand traveled further. Another kiss was pressed to his skin, this time, right below his earlobe. Your lips parted as you _shhh_ ’d, telling him, “It’s ok.”

When your hand reached his, you sucked in a sharp breath. You had expected the metal to be rough, grainy against your touch, but it wasn’t. It was soft, almost like liquid satin or velvet. It was difficult to try and pin down exactly what it felt like, but that’s not what mattered. What mattered was Bucky and making him feel like he was home. With your fingers around his wrist, you moved his hand from his side to the small of your back.

“Welcome home.”


End file.
